Mask of Pain
by Rachieloo
Summary: Ever wondered why Tristan never lets his emotions show? Well now he has to explain after torturing and killing someone. Lots of violence, torture, angst and friendship.
1. Chapter 1

Mask of Pain

Walking silently through the trees, I search around me for a sign of my quarry, the half-frozen grass beneath my feet making it harder to sneak. Remembering Arthurs words to me, "Tristan, I'm sick of this stupid game of hide and seek these people are playing. Go scout them out, but don't engage." I roll my eyes. Arthur and the rest of the knights are all royally pissed, what with the constant downpour of rain, mist and the occasional snowflake. In my opinion, they should be used to it by now. "Bunch of girls," I mumble.

Chuckling quietly, I begin scouring for tracks but something catches my eye. Blood. Moving a clump of grass, I see a woman's fingernail. Ignoring the slight twang of sympathy, I find a barely distinguishable track.

Looking back in the direction of the knights, I think, 'They can wait a bit longer.' And so I begin walking with the trail, pausing only to inspect my surroundings.


	2. Chapter 2

By midday, I was itching to go back. So standing, I sheathed my sword and began walking back to camp.  
"I don't see why we don't jus kill em' all in their sleep. It's 35 against 7, wha' could possibly go wrong?" I freeze. _'Okay, not anyone I know. Must be wanderers.'_

Reaching for my bow, I grasp at thin air. '_Damn. Left it back with Bronwein. Sorry Arthur, gotta engage.' _  
Reeling with excitement, I unsheathe my curved sword and wait for them to walk under me.

_'Two men, both muscular and tall. 5 steps away.'_

I begin to feel the adrenaline pumping through me.

_'Neither have bows, only axes and a few daggers. 4 steps away.'_

I lick my lower lip in anticipation.

_'Dark skin, eyes and hair. What…they look Sarmatian!'_

My eyes widen involuntarily, loosing focus.  
Shaking myself awake, I reach a decision.

_'Focus Tristan. Even if they're Sarmatian, they attacked you. 2 steps away.'_

Tensing my muscles, I prepare to jump.

_'1 step away.'_

I pounce, and without mercy, immediately sever the smaller man's head from his body.

Blood spattered all over my face, I grin at the remaining man in a feral way.  
He just stands there, mouth agape in horror for a moment.  
_'Idiot.'  
_Recovering, he breathes in deeply and tries to yell out, only to find his throat slit. Blood pouring out, he gurgles and puts pressure on his throat as if trying to preserve his life.

After a few seconds, he keels over and hits the ground, dead.

Cleaning my sword on the grass, I swiftly run off back to camp.


	3. Chapter 3

Lancelot's View

_'Damn weather. Even after 11 years here, I'm still not used to it. When it's not raining, it's snowing. When it's not windy, it's hailing, and when it's not hailing, it's raining! It's so Cold!'_

I hear a horse galloping and look up expectantly for Tristan.

_'He better have good news. I'll kill someone if he doesn't.'_

The moment I see his face, I perk up a bit. Blood means dead men, which means we should be able to go back to the wall soon, which means I can have a night getting drunk and seducing a wench.  
"What did you find Tristan?"

He looks at me with his emotionless face and I begin to wonder yet again, why he hates showing emotion.  
He grins at me, white teeth standing out from his face speckled with blood and grime and I actually feel a shiver slide up my spine.

"Two wanderers, Sarmatians."

He then proceeds to walk off, leaving his horse to stand in the middle of the camp. I stand there, stunned, but turn around and huff, annoyed at the silent scout.  
_  
'Why does he always have to explain things in so little words. It's so aggravating.'_

Turning around, I join the rest of the group, where Tristan immediately begins explaining to us all what he found.

"I found their camp, about an hour's ride north-east. 35 men that I could see and judging by the men I killed, most not very experienced. Although there was a group near the tree line that looked like they know what they're doing, but if we surround them first we could easily take them out."

_'Wow, never heard him talk that much at once.'_

I then remembered what he told me before and spoke up.  
"What did you mean, Sarmatians?"  
He looked at me with a glint in his eye that I couldn't understand but proceeded to continue.  
"The men I killed looked to be from near my village in Sarmatia. But the rest of them seem to vary, a few I couldn't even pick out."

We all stared at Arthur, waiting for him to tell us to move out. He just looked at all of us in turn as if questioning our loyalty, so I chose to ease his thoughts.

"It doesn't matter that these men are Sarmatians Arthur. They attacked us, so we have the right to retaliate. We'll follow you to the end."

He looks at us all once more and then turns around, mounts his horse and unsheathes Excalibur with a metallic ring. "Ride out knights!"


	4. Chapter 4

Tristan's View

Riding ahead of the group, I lead them to the camp.  
'**SNAP'  
**I stop suddenly, taking in all of my surroundings.

_'Strong easterly wind, rabbit in a bush to the left. Bush on right moving in opposite direction to wind.'_

Taking an arrow out of my quiver and loading my bow, I pull back the string and aim for the sliver of red I see. The moment it moves, I release the string, the gurgle accompanying the thud indicating that I hit his throat. Leaping off Bronwein, I go rip my arrow out of his throat and replace it into my quiver.

Turning around I see everyone's expressions of amusement and Galahad's expression of disgust. I smirk at him.

"We should fan out now, the clearing is just ahead."

They all dismount and begin surrounding the clearing, them checking their weapons and I inspecting the area.

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Tensing my muscles, I estimate that everyone is in position. So cupping a hand around my mouth, I produce a loud bird call and run into the clearing, shooting arrows as I run.

_'One through the throat, one through the eye, one through the chest.'_

Then, seeing how close the fighting is, I put my bow on the ground and take out my curved blade, automatically cutting open a man's stomach. I then eye off another opponent with a cold glare. He flinches, but walks slowly towards me, sword held high.

_'Smart man, he doesn't rush into a fight. Too bad he'll die anyway.'_

Then with a cry of vengeance, he leaps at me, swiping at my head with his blade. I simply duck, spin out of the way and slice his head off cleanly.

"Long time no see, Tristan."

I spin around, holding out my sword in front of me, but I freeze. My mask forgotten, I drop my sword and am immediately flooded with memories.

[Mother screaming, pleading, blood everywhere, a sadistic smile on a dark, brown-eyed man. The same man laughing evilly at me, crying out in pain.]

Pulled out of my memories, I look down at my stomach to see my long, curved blade sticking out of me. Realizing that I'm kneeling, I look up at my mother's murderer in shock, to see him smiling sadistically just like that day 13 years ago.

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	5. Chapter 5

Tristan's POV

Grabbing me by the hair, he drags me across the ground, roughly. My sword pushing further into my stomach, I begin to struggle furiously, all abilities to yell gone.

After flinging my arm and hitting him in the crotch, he gasps and releases me. It feels like forever before I finally hit the ground, crying out in pain. I landed on the hilt of my sword, and it's now completely through my stomach, bleeding profusely.

All I can see is red when suddenly; rough hands grab my right arm and spin me over, pulling my face out of the dirt.  
He's standing right in my line of sight, sneering at me with yellow, decaying teeth, dark-brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

"It's been a long time since I last saw you, boy. Heard you're quite the scout, eh. Well after I'm done with ya little friends, I'm gunna make your life a livin' hell. It's the least I can do afta' you stuffed up my leg."

He licks his tongue over his teeth and snaps his jaw closed inches from my face, flooding me with rotten breath.

Grabbing me by the hair again, he picks me up harshly and drags me across the bloodstained ground, smirking like the madman he is. My vision disappears, and I find myself hearing a woman's voice screaming out my name in agony.

'_Tristan…help me Tristan…please save me!'_

I'm shoved out of my memory by an abrupt pain throbbing through my whole body, making me involuntarily scream. My captor smirks and holds my sword, smothered in my blood up to my neck.

"Drop all ya weapons, and face me with ya hands held out from ya bodies."

Lancelot's POV:

I cut off my enemy's head and spin around after hearing a scream but stop, frozen at the sight. Arthur, Bors, Dagonet, Gawain and Galahad are all staring in shock at a crippled man holding Tristan up by the hair and wielding Tristan's elegant sword up to his neck. The man stares in triumph back at us as if he's just won all the women in the world and I shiver at his appearance. But the thing that scares me the most is Tristan. Strong, attentive, emotionless Tristan is just kneeling there in a pool of blood, a look of utter shock painted on his face and if it weren't for the blood on his body, one might mistake him for an innocent child scared out of his mind.

"Drop all ya weapons, and face me with ya hands held out from ya bodies."

I drop my swords with a thump and hear the rest of us do the same.

'_How did Tristan let this happen? He's never hurt in battle, let alone shocked into submission.'_

As I thought this, I stared deeply into his eyes, seeking any kind of the usual coldness set in his gaze. But all I find is confusion, pain and shock. Three emotions that I never dreamt of seeing in those dark piercing eyes.

"Ya know, I've heard that this boy's a righ' bastard from all those rumours, but all I see here is a scared little boy. What a shame, I was hoping for a fight like the one 'is mother gave when I tortured her in front of 'is innocent little eyes. Wha' a scream she had for me, blood runnin' down her body as I…"

At the mention of his mother, Tristan's dark eyes filled with such rage that he looked like a demon let loose. Face scrunched up in determination, he reached behind him and grasped the man's leg with such power that the resounding 'crack' of a fracture made me flinch.

"Ya bloody bastard, ya fucking broke my leg again! I'll kill ya, I will hunt ya down and kill ya!"

The man was now lying on the ground cradling his leg, anger burning on his face. Tristan just stood over him with his usual calm facade, but betraying his feelings were his eyes, almost black with pure rage. He knelt on the ground, grabbed the man's garb and shoved their faces closely together.

"You won't be able to hunt me down, because after I'm done with you, you'll die in absolute agony. That way you can feel what my mother felt. Welcome to hell Carayne."

With that said, he kicked the man called Carayne in the face, leaving him motionless and turned around to the group of knights.

"Keep out of my way and I won't hurt any of you."

And none disobeyed for they had never seen such bloodlust in one's eyes.


End file.
